


The Laughing Spell

by DessArtem



Series: Broken Pieces [2]
Category: The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Minor Violence, Stabbing, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3282878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DessArtem/pseuds/DessArtem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what happens when you order your robot army to destroy Cloud Cuckoo Land while you're facing down Unikitty.</p><p>Bonus at the end! Alice watches TV and yells at the ceiling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Laughing Spell

**Author's Note:**

> References some other stuff in the "Broken Pieces" universe, so sorry if there's any confusion.
> 
> Please attend the tags, ye who are sensitive.
> 
> Also, in case anyone's wondering why I write Good as such a smarmy bastard, blame [this fanart](http://www.deviantart.com/art/Ugh-486260236) and all the others of the Cops in that bloody gallery. Seriously, wa-wa portrays their personalities so amazingly~

Good rested his chin on his fist as he tapped the fingers of his other hand on the steering wheel of the jetcar. The car was stationed at the very back of the army of robots, just behind the forest they were hiding in. Leave it to Master Builders to be late to their own event.

“Come oooon, they’ve been planning this for weeks!” He tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling, the smooth dome of his helmet gliding easily against the headrest. “Don’t tell me they all forgot about it!”

“Quit yer whining,” grumbled Bad, switching out to tilt their head back down. “And pay attention. You never know with these tricky freaks. They could be waiting to catch us off-guard.”

“How do you catch a robot army off-guard?” Good smirked, resting his head on his fist again. He yawned and checked their phone, which had a direct feed to the robot scouts’ sensors. He’d taken off their work gloves a little while ago, since they made it hard to hit the right buttons. The robots were picking up zero movement from anything large enough to be a Master Builder. The only signs of life were from forest animals. “Here, if it makes you feel better.” He put the phone down on his thigh and pressed the button on their radio transmitter, which was clipped to the shoulder of their uniform. “Hey guys, see anything suspicious?” he asked with a decent amount of sarcasm.

“Negative,-sir. No-signs-of-Master-Builder-activity. No-humans-in-the-area-except-for-you,” came the tinny response.

Good responded with a quick “Thank you!” and rested his free hand back on the wheel. “Wanna play I-Spy?” he teased his brother.

“ _We have the same set of eyes, idiot,_ ” Bad snapped. They had tried to play I-Spy together once before, but Bad had a hard time not focusing on the target when it was Good’s turn to guess. Plus, Good had a tendency to cheat.

“Yes, but I make them look _good_ ,” Good purred, flipping down the car visor so he could grin smugly for Bad to see. He raised his eyebrows for full effect, blue eyes appearing big and bright while flirtatiously half-lidded.

“You make us look like a used car salesman,” grumbled Bad. His expression darkened their gaze, eyebrows dropping back down to block the bit of light that caused their eyes to shine. He crinkled his nose and scowled at his brother, using the mirror like the other had done.

“ _You weren’t complaining all those times that look got you laid._ ” Good chuckled as blood rushed to Bad’s cheeks. Bad slammed the visor up, causing the entire car to shake. That just made his brother laugh harder.

“If you’re not going to work, then don’t distract me.” Bad flipped the aviator lenses down on their glasses and shifted in his seat to get comfortable, straightening his back where Good had been slumping. Good switched out, however, and flipped the aviators back up.

“Nah, buddy, I got it for now,” he said more gently, no longer teasing. He stretched and rolled his shoulders, already a bit stiff from sitting there for two hours. “Hey, we could go to upper Bricksburg when this is over and hit up some bars, or maybe a coffee shop.”

“ _We have a **job**_ ,” emphasized Bad darkly. He saw right through what Good was really suggesting they do, which was look for potential dates. “ _We can’t afford the kind of diversion you’re gunning for._ ”

“Yes, I know,” Good sighed, “but I know how much you miss having someone you can be close to, I mean physically. We can’t find someone for you unless we actually go out and _try_.”

“ _And repeat the disaster that was last time? No thanks_ ,” Bad snapped.

“Alright, you win for now,” Good relented, rubbing his chin as he checked their phone again. He grimaced and rubbed harder, since the smooth ends of their fingers weren’t up to the challenge of scratching itches, unlike their real fingernails had been. He used the edge of their jacket collar instead. “Hm?” he grunted, glancing up at the sound of some small animal hopping onto the roof. “Hey, what’s on the roof of my car?” he asked into the radio, more curious than anything.

“There-is-a-felis-silvestris-catus-in-the-color-F-A-A-F-B-E,-sir.”

“ _What?_ ” said Bad, though Good was already doing a quick search on their phone.

“Oh, house cat. How cu-UTE!” Good was jostled heavily as the entire car shook. The cause of the shaking was the huge saw that had been shoved in at the back end of the roof. It was beginning to saw the car in half, moving up and down and coming towards them. The strange thing about the saw, besides everything, was the fact that it was made of some kind of glittering crystal that gleamed and glowed in rainbow colors.

Bad switched out to quickly open the car door and roll out and to a safe distance. He roared, “Unit one! Why aren’t you defending BC-01?” referring to their car number. He looked up and saw the cat just as the robot voice asked what he meant. It wasn’t just any cat, it was a pink cat with a long, glowing horn on its head. When it saw he’d left the car, its horn stopped glowing and the giant saw disappeared. “Unit one, attack that cat!”

He drew his blaster just as the cat bounded off the car and into the trees, growing in size as it went. “Darnit,” he gruffed, skirting around the car to chase it. Running had never been their strong suit. He immediately lost sight of the nimble creature, but kept going; the woods were fairly small, so they would be out of them and into the clearing soon enough.

“ _If it was just going to run away, why get our attention with the saw?_ ” reasoned Good. He switched out and slowed down, flipping the aviators up to squint into the distance. They had neared the forest’s exit enough for him to see the clearing, which was empty except for a few plants and the odd rabbit. He raised the blaster and carefully stepped forward, moving slowly so as to make less noise. Where was the cat thing leading them?

The moment their metal leg stepped in a certain place, a vine loop tightened around their ankle and they found themselves shooting up through the branches of the trees, upside-down, and stopping high off the ground. As what often happened when they were startled, they switched, Bad ending up in control. He snarled and started to struggle, only causing himself to swing around like a pendulum.

“What are you doing,” sighed Good, switching out again and hanging limp until he stopped swinging as he stared dully into the foliage. He was very much not amused. “You remember we have a knife, right?” He bent his torso to slip the little utility knife from its small sheath that was sewn into the hem of their pants. He curled further still, grunting slightly, and grabbed onto the vine to hold himself up. “Honestly.”

“‘ _You remember we have a knife, right?_ ’” Bad mocked snidely. “ _I’m not the one who stepped in a darn game trap!_ ”

Good ignored him and sliced them free. He held onto the vine rope for a moment to tuck the knife away and then let go. When he hit the soft forest floor, he rolled automatically, a useful skill they’d acquired from first gymnastics and then, years later, police training. At the end of the roll, he nabbed the blaster from the base of the tree and straightened, brushing himself off with his free hand. He put his hand on his hip and frowned at the robots, who had finally caught up and were now looking at him almost expectantly, though their faces didn’t emote or even move at all. “What are you waiting for? Go after the pink cat thing.”

“We-do-not-detect-the-feline,-sir,” reported the one closest to him.

“Units two and three, spread out and find the pink cat thing!” barked Bad into the radio. He was getting impatient with the whole stupid debacle. “And don’t fall into any hunting traps!” He turned his attention to the squad standing around him. “Unit one, with me.” He marched them in the direction he thought the cat had gone, out of the forest and into the clearing.

“Where’d it go?” wondered Good. The field around them was empty, though there was something large moving in the distance.

“Forget the cat!” snapped Bad, flipping the aviators down so he could see the moving figures better in the bright sunlight. “All ground units, to my position! We’ve got Master Builders!” He stepped back to the treeline to get some cover and raised his blaster. He settled into a crouch behind a boulder and checked his supply of heat sinks, keeping an eye on the giant oddly-shaped constructs lumbering toward them from the wall, which was the border between Middle Zealand and the Nothingness to the north. There were fifteen of them, and they seemed to have come from the Master Builder tunnels within the wall, though Bad couldn’t quite tell where the opening was. He kept his position, barking orders into the radio as group after group of robots marched out of the forest and into the clearing.

“ _Isn’t it a little strange how that cat thing led us directly to the Master Builders? After trying to saw our car in half for no apparent reason?_ ” drawled Good. “ _You know, on the day they’re supposed to launch some sort of aerial base on the **other side of the forest?**_ ”

“I know! That’s why I didn’t send for the flight team!” He ducked as debris was flung in his direction from one of the constructs, which was crumpling down from the force of the robots’ attack. “Watch it!” he yelled to the robots.

“You need to be more friendly!” snapped a high-pitched voice from behind him. Bad switched in automatically at those words, and Good turned to frown annoyedly at the creature behind them. It was the pink cat, who had to be at least three or four feet tall by then. She was sitting up in a nearby tree, close enough to speak to him but far enough way that he couldn’t reach her even if he stood.

“Rude,” he remarked calmly, raising the blaster and firing. The cat hopped easily to the next branch to avoid it. Her giggling was loud and obnoxious, especially since it was meant to taunt him. Good remained in a crouch, perfectly aware of the battle going on behind him. “It’s not going to work. We know you’re just trying to distract us.” He smiled. “Not a terrible try, but not good enough.” He kept the blaster trained at her, but didn’t fire again just yet.

“You must be Bad Cop! I’ve heard so much about you!” She sat down on her new branch, continuously smiling, and regarded him with sparkling eyes.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the pleasure of saying the same,” Good said evenly, tilting his face up and smiling right back at her. This was getting interesting.

“Oh! Well, of course! I am Princess Unikitty!” she announced, bouncing and twirling while flowers, stars, and sparks shot up around her and disappeared just as quickly. “And I am here to make sure the launch of Cloud Cuckoo Land is successful!”

“‘Cloud Cuckoo Land?’ Is that really what you’re calling it?” Good jumped back a bit as Unikitty’s expression flashed from gleeful to furious, and her fur turned red. Just as quickly, her face and fur changed back. He found himself pressed back against the boulder, almost curled back over it.

“ _What are you waiting for? Capture her so we can stop them!_ ” said Bad. Good began shooting again, aiming for Unikitty’s legs, but she was too fast as she leapt from branch to branch and tree to tree. She was remaining within the general area, presumably so she could keep him in her sight.

“Sir,-we-have-surrounded-the-base. It-is-unable-to-fly-past-our-ships,” said a robot on his radio. Good sneered at Unikitty as he turned his head to respond, not taking his eyes from hers.

“Round up the Master Builders and burn the base down, please.”

Unikitty’s face began twitching. She flashed red a few times, but appeared to be trying to hold it back. Finally, she let go and roared at him, red fur standing on end and eyes on fire. She lunged fast at him, but jumped back and zipped away into the forest just as she reached him.

“That was strange,” commented Good. He changed the heat sink in the blaster for a fresh one as robots began queuing up behind him, having defeated the constructs. “Gah!” he cried out, causing Bad to switch out by accident. A strange sensation had jolted through him, almost like he'd been punched by an unseen force.

“What the?” went Bad, slightly disoriented from the sudden switch. He looked down to see his right hand, which had automatically gone to where the shock had originated, covered in what could only be blood. He moved the hand aside, but couldn’t see the wound, as it was just under the edge of their flak jacket. Another jolt, which felt more like electricity only different, racked their body and caused Good to switch out again. He dropped to one knee from the force of it and scrambled to rip their shirt open so he could pull off the jacket and see what was up with the wound. Another jolt shot through them, more quickly and more harsh, sending Bad falling to the ground with the shirt half off.

“Sir,-you-appear-to-be-wounded,” reported an approaching robot, which was painted white to indicate it was the medic. It stepped and crouched down to get the jacket off him. None of the others moved, since they were all low-level and therefore had less autonomy or personality. “Orders, sir?” they all chimed at the same time, standing at attention.

“Get the-!” Bad grit his teeth at the next rush of feeling and barely managed to keep them from switching again. “Go finish the mission!” he shouted, looking down to see the damage once their torso was bare. There was a large hole in their lower abdomen, just above the crease of their thigh. It was hard to tell with all the blood, but it appeared to be about the same diameter as the base of Unikitty’s horn. The hole disappeared under a wad of gauze the medic robot had taken from its kit, which was housed within its chest cavity.

Sharp pain finally made itself known to them, from within the wound. It must’ve been deep, for the hole to have been as big as the base of the horn. The pain was from somewhat higher up than the entry point, indicating the horn had angled upward rather than to the side upon hitting their pelvic bone. Bad pulled in deep breaths through his nose and focused on controlling the pain, which was harsh but not the worst they’d had.

“Sir,-you-need-a-hospital,” said the medic, who was wrapping bandages tightly around their lower waist to keep pressure on the thick wad of gauze. “You-have-lost-approximately-two-cups-of-blood-and-will-lose-approximately-”

“Fine, fine, just get me out of here!” groaned Good after a particularly harsh jolt, which forced a switch even with the both of them concentrating on not doing so. The sense of not-quite electricity didn’t stop this time. He tried to continue with the breathing exercises, but was starting to lose focus as his muscles tensed to try to offset the severe discomfort of whatever it was. His breath started coming in harsh gasps, which elevated their heart rate even further. This was going to cause their blood to gush faster from their wound. Their body was probably going into shock, he realized, which caused him to grin despite himself. One of the choppers was hovering above and a gurney was being lowered by sturdy ropes. They were going to fly!

“ _What’re you chuckling about?_ ” snapped Bad, who sounded breathless even in their head.

“ _I-I dunno,_ ” Good thought back at him, “ _I c-can’t stop!_ ” Their body shook and threatened to curl in on itself as Good chuffed silently, face cringed in an uncomfortable smile. This was what that sensation was, perhaps, some kind of forceful laughter that bubbled forth from their waist and up through their chest.

Good tried to concentrate enough to let Bad switch with him, but they both soon lost a sense of who was where. The laughing fit had total control of their body, inside and out.

By the time they got to the little hospital at the northern edge of Bricksburg, their minds were half-dazed from fatigue. The bleeding had slowed down, but the bandages were completely soaked through. Their heart was pounding hard enough that they could feel it thump in their chest cavity. Their torso heaved as each exhale shook from laughter and each inhale was a frantic gasp for air. Their arms and legs lay limp, as they had no energy left to move them. Both were putting all their willpower into just breathing.

~

“What are our instructions?” asked Doctor Wan, who was smiling cheerfully. It was about an hour after they’d received the patient with the strange stab wound, and Doctor Wan had been the one to pull the strange pieces from it. The surgery nurse, Jessica Scalpelbot, had just returned from making her report to whomever it was one reported strange things to. Doctor Wan stood from her desk, where she’d been dutifully doing her post-surgery paperwork, as the nurse shut the office door behind her.

“Oh, there’s nothing to worry about!” Jessica had a bright, cheery voice that in no way sounded electronic. “Those pieces were just some regular forest debris is all! I’ll go ahead and dispose of them for you.” She marched to the desk and picked up the small box, which was glowing slightly from inside.

“Oh, well, that’s a relief!” chuckled Doctor Wan, smoothing down her short, brown hair. She adjusted her glasses as well, making sure she was perfect at all times! She wouldn’t want whoever was watching her through the security camera in her office to see her when she wasn’t at her best, after all! “And the laughter?”

“That was simply his relief at getting here safely! His body was going into shock, after all, so he wasn’t quite in his right mind at the time.”

“I suppose that means we don’t have to keep Mr. Cop sedated. Right?” she added nervously, not wanting to make assumptions outside of what she was instructed. 

“Yes, that’s right,” replied Jessica, making Doctor Wan perk up again with relief. “I’m sure any residual laughter is merely from his joy at being alive!”

Doctor Wan nodded, but something sounded odd about that to her. She forgot her doubts instantly as Jessica said her goodbye and turned to leave. She waved cheerfully as Jessica carried the perfectly-normal box outside the office and shut the door behind her.

~

The laughter didn’t wear down until late the next day. When Bad was able to settle down at last, since he’d dutifully switched out when the loud peals of what were practically screams had lessened to mere chuckles, he immediately gulped in lungfuls of air before passing out entirely. They hadn’t slept properly since the night before the attack on Cloud Cuckoo Land, and even then they’d only gotten a few hours since they were up so late preparing.

The next morning, at five o’clock on the dot, they snapped awake and Good took over, like he always did. It took him a few moments to realize they were in a hospital room, which he only barely remembered from the day before, when they were too busy fighting for their life to be aware of their surroundings. He closed his eyes again to try to go back to sleep, but he was in too much pain to be able to relax. They'd been continuously tensed for the past two days, so their muscles were cramping horribly.

“ _Easy, buddy, we’re alright,_ ” he crooned to his brother, who hadn’t yet said anything. He could sense the stress coming from Bad’s mindspace, however. “ _Maybe they have a cute masseuse who’ll turn out to be your type, eh?_ ” He winced as he shifted to find a more comfortable position. Not only were their muscles screaming, but the wound itself was starting to throb underneath the bandages.

“ _This is the second time we’ve almost died since we took this job and you’re making **jokes**?!_ ” Bad snapped.

“What else do you want me to say?” Good mumbled. His voice was hoarse and strained. He coughed and cringed hard as pain erupted in their chest. “ _Fuck!_ ” Bad dutifully switched out, grimacing hard through it.

“Good-morning,-sir,” said a nearby robot they hadn’t noticed, since it only just powered up at the sound of Good’s voice. It was the white-painted medic. Bad watched it come closer and press a button on a little machine by the bed. A wave of relief immediately washed through him, causing him to close his eyes for a moment. Morphine.

“Report,” he murmured, relaxing a bit into the hospital bed. He wanted nothing more than a glass of water just then, but knew better than to ask a robot for anything other than what it was programmed to do. Even something as simple as fetching a few towels was too far outside what their circuitry could handle. Bad opened his eyes and caught himself from thinking too much, remembering too much. Luckily, the robot was starting to talk so he turned his attention back to it.

“The-Master-Builder-Unikitty-stopped-us-from-taking-the-Cloud-Cuckoo-Land. All-of-our-aerial-vehicles-were-destroyed.”

“What?” Bad rasped, eyes going wide. He could no longer keep the memory of Lord Business’s sneer out of his head, from when he'd failed before. He shivered at the memory of the cold water and tried not to panic. “How did one Master Builder defeat _all_ of our army?!” The robot didn’t seem sure how to respond. “Has Lord Business been notified?” he asked nervously, though he knew it was a stupid question.

“Of-course,-sir.”

“And my orders?”

“You-are-to-be-returned-to-Octan-Headquarters-for-the-remainder-of-your-recovery. You-will-return-to-active-duty-after-two-weeks. You-will-return-to-your-other-duties-tomorrow.” It wasn’t entirely clear what “other duties meant, but he supposed he’d find out soon enough. After all, he had to make up for his massive failure somehow.

~

Alice flipped through the stations on her new television set, chewing thoughtfully on her thumbnail. The neighbors had left it on the curb because they’d gotten a new flatscreen, and she was able to hook it up in her basement lair. Well, it wasn’t much of a lair, really, though it felt like one with the concrete floor and loads of crap lying around, not to mention the single light source sitting on a workbench. At least she’d managed to find an actual mattress once her ankle had healed enough to drag it down the steps, so she had something more comfortable to hang out and sleep on than the cold floor.

“-other news, citizens are advised to be on the lookout for a pink cat-like creature who is reported to have been aiding in a massive destruction of property in Middle Zealand,” reported a newscaster. Alice rested the remote control on her pillow and leaned back a bit, figuring she might as well see how things were going for regular citizens. There was something strange about the newscaster, though, something her mind couldn’t quite settle on. In fact, it was making her mind feel hazy. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, but luckily the picture on the screen had changed when she’d opened them again. It was now showing a short clip of a large pink cat leaping around on trees to avoid blaster shots. “This strange creature has resisted arrest and is highly dangerous. Our valiant police force would like citizens to remember that anything strange must be reported immediately,” continued the newscaster in a voice-over.

“‘ _Anything_ strange?’” murmured Alice. “I thought it was just Master Builder activity. Unless that’s what they mean,” she added. “Wait, what was that?” At the end of the video, just before it cut back to the newscaster, the wobbly first-person camera zoomed back a bit as the cat thing leapt off the tree and toward something on the ground. Alice quickly grabbed the remote control and rewound, thankful her upstairs neighbors had paid the extra money to get that feature in their cable package.

She had to replay the clip a couple times, leaning forward and staring hard at the screen to try to see what the cat had jumped at, when she remembered she could slow down the footage as well as rewind it.

The blurry image was that of a person from the back, wearing black clothes and a black-and-white helmet. Alice assumed it was just a police officer until she noticed the light glinting off something metal at the end of one arm. It wasn’t just any police officer, it was one of Business’s robots, the Super Secret Police. She huffed out a breath and unpaused the video to watch Unikitty pounce on the thing. She didn’t quite pounce, however. She landed just in front of the robot and shoved her horn in and up the lower part of its torso before turning away, where the video cut. Alice frowned and rewound the short scene again. Something wasn’t right.

“Is that the Cop twins?” she wondered aloud. “No, can’t be. They’re not even reacting to her stabbing them.” She hesitated, though, unsure. “But the robots aren’t soft enough for her horn to go right through one like that.” With quick fingers, she rewound the footage and paused it just the cat pulled her horn back. There was no denying it. That was definitely blood.

Alice was surprised at the rush of worry boiling up inside. “He’s fine, at most it just hit their colon, or maybe their spleen,” she told herself. The feeling was persistent, however, and niggled at her even though she was sure he wasn’t dead. It was familiar, as if she were emoting Frankie's own sense of compassion for him. “Is that you?” she asked very, very quietly. She didn’t dare try to switch in again, since last time had caused her to pass out. She waited, but there was no answer. She hadn’t really expected one. “Or am I just going insane?” She threw the remote control onto the pillow and stood in a huff, but paused and looked back at the screen. “Is this what you wanted? When you shoved all those feelings at me while you were…?” She trailed off, never wanting to finish that statement, ever.

The silence of the room pressed back at her while she searched the nothingness for answers. She grabbed the remote and hit play, turning the volume down so she could hear the voice but couldn’t make out the words. The figure in black disappeared, replaced by the newscaster that gave her such an odd feeling. She looked away and sat at a workbench instead, picking up a tool and uselessly poking at her latest device with it. “Okay, why haven’t I felt this before? I didn’t feel this way at the hospital, and there were plenty of sick people around to feel compassion at.” Despite the pain of it, she thought back to when Frankie was torn away from her. He’d been desperately trying to get something across to her, something intense-

_Total control. Total perfection._

Alice cried out and clutched her head at the wave of physical pain that joined her emotional agony. It wasn’t a voice she heard, or even a memory of a voice. It was _information_ , information that had been hidden from her until the very last moment. She hadn’t noticed until now, until she actually went looking for it at the edge of where their connection used to be, and now pieces were fitting together in her consciousness.

“Lord Business is…” she gasped to herself, calming as the pain subsided. She looked back to the screen and her eye widened as she realized she knew exactly what was strange about the newscaster. She almost fell off the stool in her hurry to grab the remote. She switched through channels and saw the same thing each time. “Robots...all robots...No, not just robots.” She narrowed her eye as that same fog from before crept in at the edges of her mind. She shut off the television but the fog remained. It was a comfortable fog, one she would’ve gladly accepted had she not known what it really was. “I can’t do anything about it, Frankie,” she said very quietly, lowering her head as tears welled up in her remaining eye. “I don’t know what you wanted me to do, if you even really...No. There’s no way you expected me to do anything. You were supposed to be the one to survive, weren’t you?!” she yelled at the ceiling, “You were supposed to do something! You were supposed to be the hero!” She grabbed at her hair by the roots and pulled. “You realized your research was being stolen to brainwash people! But then...then you were…” She let go of her hair and looked back at the dark screen with a gasp. The brainwashing wasn't the only thing she suddenly knew. “The Cops. He's going to...”

~End~

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to the lovely Lithefinder, who probably regrets thinking Unikitty's spell is very funny ;p It's nooooot...(hehe) But hopefully you enjoyed all the Good Cop fun, eh? *nudge nudge*
> 
> Also, I feel like clarifying to people: Good's asexual, and Bad's more demisexual, hence how awkward it was for the last person to go out with him to try to sleep with him at the end of their first date... He doesn't use demisexual to describe it, though, since I don't think the word exists in this universe.  
> Not entirely sure about their general romantic affiliations, though. Might find out later, if it comes up somewhere.


End file.
